


intertwined

by bread_boy



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 3+1 fic, Canon Compliant, M/M, then again when are my fics not anything produced directly from my brainrot, very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:14:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29970348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bread_boy/pseuds/bread_boy
Summary: Three times Minho is threatened by their hand size difference and the one time Seungmin sees right through him.
Relationships: Kim Seungmin/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 20
Kudos: 253





	intertwined

**Author's Note:**

> funny story: this was supposed to be a warm-up drabble for twt since i have another 2min fic in the works but somehow this not only went past 1k but even exceeded 2k. tfw your brain is so deep in 2min you just start typing anything

**1.**

"I want a rematch." Minho says as soon as Seungmin hops into the van, taking the empty seat beside Minho which he'd conveniently left vacant. Seungmin blinks, first at Minho's face obscured in the dim interior of the car, then at their manager who simply shrugs before sliding the door closed.

Before Seungmin can get a word out, however, Minho brings his hand up, palm facing Seungmin while he levels him with that same intense gaze. It takes about three seconds for it to click, but Seungmin finds himself moving on auto-pilot, lifting his own hand up to press against Minho's, just like they did in their radio show earlier.

Scrutiny creases Minho's brow as he leans closer to inspect the gap where his fingers end and Seungmin's continue, and just as Seungmin's about to speak to fill in the stifling silence, their manager starts the car, the roar of the engine snapping Minho back into action as he snatches his hand away.

"I didn't know this was a competition." Seungmin mumbles, ignoring the warm tingle that settles on his fingertips.

The scowl doesn't leave Minho's face; if anything, he looks even more chagrined at Seungmin's bemusement.

"Well, it's about to be." Minho bites back, and before Seungmin can say anything else, he turns away, arms folded over his chest in a huff as he glares out the window. They stay like this for the remainder of the ride, with Seungmin shaking his head halfway through, resigning himself to his fate at the hands of the ever inscrutable Lee Minho.

**2.**

"Yah, Kim Seungmin." is what Minho greets him with next morning, his dark hair sitting like an abandoned bird's nest at top of his head. They're the first ones up today, as usual, with Minho already sitting on the kitchen table with his bowl of cornflakes.

Seungmin grunts in response, still bleary-eyed from the measly four hours of sleep he managed to get last night, so it isn't until he's sat across Minho does he spot the hand held up between them.

"Again." Minho simply says, using his other hand to scoop out more cereal with his spoon. Seungmin's left eye twitches— he could usually hold his own against Minho, but there _is_ such a thing as too fucking early, whether it's in the face of Minho's very loud, very deliberate chewing or his insistence in turning this into some kind of comeuppance just because Seungmin's hand is a few centimeters bigger.

Just as he's about to protest, Minho does that deadly combination where he surreptitiously tilts his head to the side and blinks all slow and sweet, eyes holding that cryptic sparkle that Seungmin can admit he's magnetized to at this point. (Yes, _even_ at 6 o'clock in the morning.)

"What are you trying to get out of this?" Seungmin grumbles, squinting at their hands now pressed together yet again, the size difference just as apparent as it had been yesterday.

He wasn't expecting an answer of course; when it came to dealing with someone like Minho, speaking in rhetoric was all part of the experience.

And yet when Minho pulls his hand away, he looks directly at Seungmin with those impenetrable dark eyes, just as sharp as they are liquid, and says, "I'm trying to keep you in check. I can't have you outgrowing me like this."

Seungmin can't help but chuckle at this revelation, his voice deep and gravelly from the aftereffects of sleep, smiling so hard his sleep-swollen cheeks push up against his crescent-shaped eyes.

"I don't know where you've been these past three years, hyung, but I'm pretty sure I've already outgrown you. By a _lot_."

Minho snorts, chomping down on his now soggy cereal, with Seungmin cackling in delight as Minho shudders around the wet lump he perseveres in swallowing to save face.

"That's why I'm keeping you in check _now_." comes Minho's belated reply, jabbing his spoon at Seungmin's general direction. "I let my guard down before, but that's simply not happening anymore, Kim Seungmin."

"Sure." Seungmin responds, suddenly chipper than he had been minutes before, the bone-deep weariness melting away as he delights in Minho's dramatic eye roll. "Whatever you say, Minho-hyung."

**3.**

Late afternoon finds Seungmin in the company building, walking down the familiar hallway leading to the row of vending machines. He'd been allowed the small mercy of a 15 minute break after back-to-back vocal and guitar lessons, his teacher smiling broadly at the progress they were making.

Despite the dull throb at the base of his neck from keeping his head low while practicing the chords, Seungmin is light on his feet, elated by his teacher's generous praise and the general sense of accomplishment that comes with it.

Just as he's rounding the corner, Seungmin is stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of none other than Minho. He can't help but mirror the genuine look of surprise on Minho's face, but he doesn't recover as fast enough, eyebrows still shot up his forehead while Minho's already settled into his usual mask of indifference-slash-disdain (courtesy of Seungmin).

"Oh, hi," Minho greets, like there hadn't been a three-second pause where they'd just gawked at each other. "are you done with your lessons?"

Seungmin shakes his head, shoulders growing lax as the initial surprise ebbs away. He walks over to the nearest vending machine, glancing at Minho before looking over the display behind the glass.

"I still have an hour and a half to go. How about you?"

"Insu-hyung wasn't feeling too good so we had to cut the class short. Manager-hyung's on his way to pick me and Hyunjin up."

Seungmin nods, now turning his attention to the coin purse in his hands. "That's too bad," he mumbles distractedly while rifling through the bills for some change. "I hope he feels better soon."

Minho hums noncommittally, with Seungmin getting lost in the quiet that follows as he internally debates between a machine-processed iced americano or peach-flavored iced tea.

"Seungmin."

"Yeah?" Seungmin doesn't bother lifting his head up until he catches sight of something by his peripheral, concealing his flinch with a grimace when his eyes land on Minho's hand held up in the air. "Seriously, hyung?"

Minho shrugs, the stiff action juxtaposed by the playful gleam in his eye. The sight is enough to smoothen all traces of annoyance from Seungmin's face, leaving nothing for Minho to find except the easy compliance Seungmin allocates for him and him alone.

With a long-suffering sigh (because he _does_ need to keep up appearances despite the fact), Seungmin presses his palm against Minho's, but this time, instead of letting his gaze wander back to Minho's face, Seungmin takes in the sight of their hands and the still-discernible size difference between them.

Minho's hands, rough and calloused and veined, a physical record of years of hard work and perseverance, of sleepless nights and rigorous training, of not only chasing his dream but also achieving it, looking so small and dainty when held up like this against Seungmin's.

"Wow," his voice comes out strained, like he'd been sucker punched in the gut (Seungmin thinks the feeling isn't far from it). "your hand really _is_ tiny."

Minho makes a garbled noise at the back of his throat, but in the next second Hyunjin's suddenly materialized in the hallway, pausing as he surveys the scene before him.

"...am I interrupting something?" he says, eyes darting curiously between them.

Minho, as always, is the first to recover, stepping away while Seungmin's hand falls limply to his side. "I'm just keeping an eye on Kim Seungmin. Did you know his body is finally catching up to his ginormous head."

"Really?" Hyunjin's intrigue transforms into something malicious, if the impish grin he aims at them is anything to go by. "It kinda looked like you were trying to hold Seungminnie's hand to me."

Minho rounds on Hyunjin with a glare that could cut glass, but its desired effect falls flat once Hyunjin and Seungmin catch sight of his ears, flushed pink like he'd been swept right in the middle of a freezing tundra. 

Blushing. Minho is blushing, and all because Hyunjin alluded to the fact that—

Before the thought can fully materialize, Minho captures Hyunjin in a headlock, ruffling his hair while vowing to _finally_ cook him in the air fryer. In the midst of Hyunjin's shrieks for mercy, their manager enters the fray with a huff, prying the two of them apart while Seungmin stands safe in the sidelines.

It's only when they've said their _See you laters_ does Seungmin feel the full weight of it— his heart, beating rapidly against his ribcage, his chest fit to bursting at the realization that Minho was still blushing all the way to the exit, the backs of his ears so pink it could rival a tulip in full boom.

**\+ 4.**

Seungmin comes home around dinnertime with the members going about their own business in the dorm; Felix and Jeongin were enjoying what looked like the former's homemade fried rice while Changbin was caught in a very intense, very animated debate with Hyunjin about some drama they've watched before.

On their laps was Jisung, his head propped on Hyunjin's thigh while his legs dangled off Changbin's, all of his attention pored over whatever was flashing on his phone screen.

Seungmin makes the easy choice of avoiding the minefield that is Hyunjin insisting Hyena's methods to get close to her estranged father were valid while Changbin vehemently shakes his head. Instead, he approaches the kitchen table where Jeongin greets him around a mouthful of kimchi fried rice.

"Where's Chan-hyung?" Seungmin asks after stealing a spoonful from Jeongin's plate, blatantly ignoring his muffled protests.

"He's staying up late in the studio." Felix answers easily, though it's not hard to miss the frown that bunches his brow into one disapproving line. "That's the third time this week, actually."

Seungmin nods dismissively, knowing from experience that nothing can deter Chan from working until the wee hours of the night as much as Felix would never grow tired of nagging him about it. He does another cursory glance around the dorm, failing to spot the one person that's been on his mind for the better part of the day.

"If you're looking for Minho-hyung, he's sleeping right now." Jeongin supplies, his expression a carbon copy of Hyunjin's— smirking like he knows far too much for his own good.

Nodding wordlessly, Seungmin makes the short trip to their room only to find the door left ajar and the light turned on. He frowns, quickly depositing his bag on the top bunk while making the least amount of noise as possible. He'll have to remind Hyunjin about shutting the light off, especially whenever Minho turns in early for the night.

With a flip of the switch, the room is immediately engulfed in darkness save for the night light plugged at the foot of Hyunjin's bunk bed. Seungmin's gaze inevitably travels to the drawn curtain on the opposite side of the room, holding it there until the strange warmth in his chest subsides into something bearable. Something concealable.

He turns away, carefully shrugging off his jacket while making a mental list of his nightly duties: wash up, brush his teeth, write in his diary—

"Seungmin?" croaks Minho, derailing the organized thoughts in Seungmin's mind before it crashes in a jumbled heap just with a simple call of his name.

Seungmin whirls around to find the curtain parted, Minho's face peering up at him as he blinks the sleep away from his puffy eyes.

"Hi," he says meekly, pursing his lips. "did I wake you, hyung?"

"Mm-mm." Minho shakes his head, dark hair falling into his face before carelessly combing it away. Seungmin has caught him in worse moods than this, but somehow, this version of Minho— sleep-soft and cheeks creased from the lining of his mattress— has Seungmin's palms growing clammy as the warmth in his chest spreads from the tender core of him to the very gaps between his bones.

"Seungmin." Minho's called his name a thousand times before, in different shades and in all the spectrums someone could possibly address another person, and yet here, now, with Minho's hand held out in front of him, Seungmin lets the exact tone of it carry his steps, like a moth to a flame, a sailor to a siren's song.

Sinking down to his knees by Minho's bed, Seungmin easily finds his hand, melts in the soft, sweet sound of Minho's exhale when their palms finally meet.

"You really have to stop growing."

The breath Seungmin hadn't realized he was holding in expels into a laugh, his shoulders shaking in gentle mirth. Even when faced with the truth behind his actions, Minho will always be predisposed to conceal himself in smoke and mirrors.

That doesn't mean Seungmin has to play along, though. At least, not this time.

"And you really have to stop pretending."

Long, slender fingers weave in between Minho's, Seungmin's fingertips grazing over his knuckles before closing around his hand, reveling in this simple intimacy that Seungmin believes is long overdue.

"Hyung," Seungmin anchors himself to this single point of contact, knows that if they stood under the light right now, he'd see just how pink Minho's face is. But it's probably for the best that they aren't, because Seungmin's is too. "if you wanted to hold my hand, you could've just said so."

That pulls Minho right out of his stupor, but instead of withdrawing, of tucking himself back in his shell, Minho chooses to meet him halfway, his own hand now closing over Seungmin's. When Seungmin looks this time, there is neither disdain nor annoyance creasing Minho's face, but the open, honest look of someone who's exactly where they want to be.

"Fine, Kim Seungmin." Minho squeezes Seungmin's hand, just to be defiant, just to gain back some semblance of control even when he's burning crimson right under Seungmin's gaze. "But don't even think about letting go, okay?"

"I won't." It's the easiest promise Seungmin's ever made, and one he intends to keep for as long as Minho would let him.

(And he does. He keeps his promise for a long, long time.)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! feel free to follow me on [twt](https://twitter.com/ttubinni) for fun times
> 
> ps: if anyone spotted the sky castle reference i owe you one (1) platonic smooch


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